A Rebellious Heart
by Annette de Rouge et Noir
Summary: Cosette has been over protected by her father for as long as she can remember. Though the love she has for her father compels her to obey, her thirst for the adventures that she reads about in books calls louder. A fateful meeting with a young revolutionary may give her just the adventure that she's been looking for, but her thirst for adventure may lead to her death.


**Hello everyone! My name is Annette, and if you've read my work before, you know that I don't make it too far before I quit, or get too busy to finish writing my story. Well, lucky for you, this story has been planned out for a very long time and I already have over half of it typed out in my tiny brain! :D I hope you enjoy it as much as I did when I wrote it.**

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Introduction

When I think of my past, the picture that comes to mind is that of a beautiful woman. Her hair looks like pure gold in the sun and her eyes like the deepest part of the ocean. She tells me that she loves me and in her smile I see the warmth that only love can give. I can't know for sure, but I think that this woman is my mother.

She died before I was old enough to remember, so everything I know about my mother, I learned from my papa. He loved her very much, I think. I think he still thinks about her some days, in those times when he looks out the window and seems to stare at everything and nothing at once. You see, my papa isn't really my father. I was born out of wedlock, but papa was not the father. My mother had been with a man for several years, but when he learned that she was with child, he left her. She was all alone with no home, no money or job, and a swollen belly.

Papa doesn't know what happened to my mother in the next few years, but what he does know is that when I was around 2 years old, my mother could no longer afford to keep me with her. She fretted and feared until one day, by luck it seemed, she came by an inn in Montfermeil. The owner and his wife, a couple called the Thenardiers, owned the inn and took care of their 2 daughters as well. They told my mother that if she were to send them money each month to pay for my needs they would be willing to take me into their home and raise me as one of their own until she returned for me. As much as she hated the thought of being separated from me, she took their offer so that she could continue on and find work to support the both of us.

My mother continued on to Montreuil-sur-Mer where she got work making buttons and beads. The factory where she worked was owned by my father, but he did not know this until much later. While my mother worked her fingers to the bone to provide for me, the Thenardiers took advantage of her absence. They forced me to work like a slave, feeding me little and abusing me. They used my mother's hard earned money to buy things for their own daughters and to build on to their own inn which turned out to be a place of bribery and theft. All the while, my poor mother kept working in good faith that I was under proper care.

For years, Papa would go no further in the stories of my mother because he did not want me to hear how my mother had suffered, but as I grew older, he finally shared the rest of her story. Life continued on for her like this for 5 years until one of the other women of the factory found out that my mother had had a child out of wedlock. The word spread quickly and the woman who watched over the women of the factory as a sort of foreman fired her. Papa knew nothing of this.

After being fired from he job at the factory, my mother was unable to find another job that could make enough money to support the both of us. She began to become desperate. She cut her beautiful golden locks and sold them to be made into a wig. When this money ran out, she had several of her teeth, pure white a pearls, pulled and added to dentures. Even this could not keep off the Thenadier's demands for long. Eventually, my mother was forced into the lowest position of prostitution. She was forced to go on like this for months. She grew sick and thin. That is when my papa found her

My papa is a good man with a peaceful disposition and a kind heart. He spent a good amount of his time caring for the poor and sick. One one of his nightly missions, he came across my mother. She was barely strong enough to stand with frost bitten limbs and as sick as death itself. He took her as his charge and brought her to his own home and cared for her himself.

My mother had given up he beauty and her pride for me, but there was still something beautiful that he had, Papa always said. She still had those beautiful blue eyes.

Over the next months, my mother grew in strength as my Papa nursed her back to health. He grew to love her as his own daughter over this time and learned of this story that I know tell you. He promised her that as she grew to be healthier, he would bring me to her so that we could live together once again. But as the weather grew colder, my mother's sickness returned. Before long, she was too sick to hold on any longer. Before she went to be with The Lord, Papa promised her that he would care for me as his own child.

Even in death, Papa told me, my mother's eyes could outshine the most beautiful gems in the world.

True to his word, Papa came to find me at the inn and paid to take me away from my horrible life with the Thenardier family and bring me into his loving life. So you see, though he may not be my papa by blood, he is more of a father to me than I could ever ask. This is where we are now.

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**I'm sorry that we had to go through the whole story of Fantine, guys. I just need to make sure that we have the background kind of covered and make sure you guys can get used to my writing style before we get too deep into the story. There's a bit more backstory to do, but I swear we're almost caught up!**

**You'll probably notice that I have strayed from the true story a wee bit. Rest assured, I am not a total idiot! I have read the brick, and I know that's not quite how things go, but you must trust me!**

**If you could rate and review this, I would be most appreciative!**

**Oh and I don't own Les Mis in any shape or form. I wish I did, but our dear old Victor Hugo owns that piece of art! 3**

**Love you guys!**

**- Annette**


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